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   Author's Note: I like to pay particular attention to both character
development, and to story lines.  For that reason, some readers may be put
off, as you won't find "the good stuff" until I'm well into the story.  If
you prefer to get right down to the hardcore action, then skip at least the
first two or three chapters.  If you have no interest in character
development or story lines, then this material probably isn't the story for
you - nor is pretty much anything that I'll be posting here likely to
interest you.  You've been warned.

   Sweet, Sweet Amy ~ Chapter II ~ Steve (M/g, Incest, Romantic, Consensual)

   By

   Daddy's Little Slut-Muffin

   It is so hard to believe that it's been this long since all of this
started.  Twenty-five years since my brother-in-law was killed, and twenty
years since my sister died of pancreatic cancer.  Also, about twenty years
since my world was turned upside down by a beautiful little ten-year-old
girl.

   My sister Heather and I had always been close.  We were close in age,
just three years apart, she being the oldest.  Still, in many ways, she
always looked up to me.  I was always kind of mature for my age as a kid.
We were more like best friends than we were brother and sister.  For
whatever reason, our parents never paid much attention to us - it was
almost like we were just there - part of the furniture.  Not that they were
ever mean to us, they weren't.  They just had other things to do than deal
with two kids.  So, Heather and I grew up pretty much taking care of each
other.

   The day that she got married was a strange day for me.  She took my
breath away, she was so beautiful.  Yet, I felt a twinge of jealousy, too,
because I knew that this meant that she'd be spending less time with me
now. As little consolation as it was, I tried to take some comfort in
knowing that she was happy, and that this is the way that things are
supposed to be.

   Heather was pregnant almost immediately.  David, my brother-in-law, was
completely ecstatic.  Truth be told, even though I felt some jealousy about
him having taken Heather away from me, he was a good man.  He truly loved
my sister, and he was never anything but good to her.  When Amy was born,
he was an amazingly good father.  He loved that little girl more than life
itself, and it seemed that everything was on a good track for the three of
them.

   Then I got the phone call.  It was a state police officer, who was at my
sister's house.  He was calling to tell me that I needed to come, because
my brother-in-law had been killed in a car accident, and my sister wasn't
dealing with it well at all.  I dropped everything, rushed out the door,
and got to my sister's in record time.

   I found Heather completely hysterical, and Amy clinging desperately to
the state police officer, who was holding her gently in his arms.  I think
she was mostly frightened at what was going on with her mother.  Quietly, I
asked him to give me a moment, and he just nodded.  I quickly made my way
to the bathroom, and found the sleeping pills that I knew Heather had for
her occasional bouts with insomnia.  I read the dosage instructions,
doubled what was written, and hurried back to her.

   After I managed to get her to take the pills, and assured her that I
would take care of Amy, I went and gently pried my niece from the police
officer.  She was terrified, mostly because she had never seen her mother
like this before.  She also recognized and knew that he was a police
officer, and that she could trust him.  Once I broke through her fear, she
looked at me, and said in a quavering voice, "Uncle Steve?"

   "Yes, Punkin," I answered, "I'm here, Baby.  Come to me now, okay?"

   She unwrapped herself from the state police officer, and wound her arms
around my neck, her legs around my waist as I held her.  I buried my face
in her hair, and kissed the top of her head.

   "It's okay, Baby.  Uncle Steve's here now."

   The state police officer quietly asked me if I was okay, or if I needed
anything else.  I looked up at him, and saw his eyes welled with tears. 
For some reason, that moved me beyond words.

   "No, it's okay," I said.  "I've got it now."

   The next few days were a blur.  I helped my sister with making all of
the funeral arrangements, and did what I could to help out at home with
Amy. I stayed with them for about a week - and moved a cot into the guest
bedroom.  Heather couldn't bring herself to sleep in the bed she'd shared
with David yet.  So, she slept in the guest room, and I slept on a cot next
to her bed.  The first night, Amy slept with her mother, but after that,
she slid into bed with me every night, her back to me, curled into a tight,
tiny little ball.  I let her use one arm for a pillow, and wrapped my other
arm around her, holding her close to me, letting her know that she was not
alone, and that she never would be.

   Slowly, things moved back to normal.  Amy, though, had this constant
sadness about her, and try as I might, I could never really seem to make it
go away for very long.  I spent as much time as I could with my sister and
my niece, trying to help out.  I took care of the yard, of the normal
household maintenance projects that always come up.  I tried to help
Heather with money as often as I could, so that she could spend as much
time with Amy as possible.  Eventually, Amy began to light up again every
time she saw me.  For my part, I began to feel like a father.  As far as I
was concerned, the sun rose and set on this beautiful little girl.

   One evening, just one of those, "Let's have Uncle Steve over for dinner"
nights, things took a decidedly different turn for me.  Amy was now ten
years old, it had been five years since her father was killed.  After we
had eaten, sent Amy off to watch television, and Heather and I were
cleaning the kitchen, my sister got strangely serious with me.

   "Steve," she said, "if anything ever happened to me, I could count on
you to take care of Amy, right?"

   I stood and stared at her.  "What the hell kind of question is that?"

   "Just answer, me please," she said.

   "Heather," I said, "don't you think it's kind of morbid to be talking
like this?"

   "No, Steve, I don't think it's morbid.  I think it's something that I
need to be able to know has been arranged, just in case." She was beginning
to worry me with this discussion.

   "But why do you even think you need to ask me something like that?" I
asked.  "You know the answer."

   "Damn it, Steve!  I just need to hear you say it, okay?  I need to know
for sure that this is taken care of." She looked angry, and a more than
just a little scared, which was scaring me.

   "Alright, Jesus!  I promise you, if anything should ever happen to you,
I will take care of Amy.  I will raise her as if she were my own daughter.
You have my word on that, Heather.  Is that what you needed to hear?" There
was a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach now that had nothing to do
with all of the food I'd just eaten.

   Heather looked at me for a long, long moment, then sank into a chair at
the table.  She took a deep, shaking breath, and whispered, quietly, "I'm
going to die, Steve."

   Have you ever been kicked in the nuts?  If you're a guy, and you have,
then you'll know this feeling.  Pretend that there's no pain in your balls,
just that sick feeling that accompanies the pain.  Your stomach feels like
you just swallowed battery acid.  That's what I felt.

   When I could finally find my voice, I said to her, quietly, "What do you
mean, you're going to die?"

   Heather drew a deep, long breath, and then said, "I have pancreatic
cancer.  It's progressed too far to do anything about.  It's going to kill
me."

   I was stunned.  I moved behind her, and reached out, massaging her neck
and her shoulders.  She was my big sister, and loved her more than words
could begin to describe.  The thought that she was going to die was
unbearable.

   My voice dropped to a near whisper.  "How long?"

   "They think maybe eight months, at the very most." Her voice had copied
mine in dropping to that near whisper.  It was almost as if we could make
it go away if we didn't speak about it aloud.

   We discussed her options - there were none, really.  Finally, I wrapped
my arms around her from behind, and leaned in close to her ear.

   "I'll be here for you, Heather.  And I'll always be here for Amy.  I
promise, I'll take care of her for you."

   I rose, and headed for the living room.  Amy was on the couch, watching
television with a distant look in her eyes.

   "Hey, Punkin," I said, "don't you think it's time for you to get ready
for bed?"

   Amy didn't say a word.  She stared at me with an odd look on her face
for a moment, then just nodded at me, and headed up the stairs to get ready
for bed.  Fleetingly, I wondered if perhaps she had heard something, then
dismissed the thought.  When I could tell by the sounds coming from
upstairs that she had moved to her bed, I went upstairs, tucked her in, and
kissed her forehead.

   "G'night, Punkin.  Sweet dreams..."

   Going back downstairs, I asked my sister if she needed me for anything
else that night.  She told me no, then rose and hugged me tightly.

   "Thank you, Steve," she said.  "You don't know how much it means that
you'll take care of Amy."

   I hugged her back.

   "Of course I will, Heather.  You know that." I kissed her forehead
gently, then turned and left.
   And started the process of preparing to watch my sister die.  <p>It's so hard to believe that it's been this long since all of this started. Twenty-five years since my brother-in-law was killed, and twenty 
years since my sister died of pancreatic cancer. Also, about twenty years since my world was turned upside down by a beautiful little 
ten-year-old girl.</p>
<p>My sister Heather and I had always been close. We were close in age, just three years apart, she being the oldest. Still, in many ways, she 
always looked up to me. I was always kind of mature for my age as a kid. We were more like best friends than we were brother and sister. For 
whatever reason, our parents never paid much attention to us - it was almost like we were just there - part of the furniture. Not that they were 
ever mean to us, they weren't. They just had other things to do than deal with two kids. So, Heather and I grew up pretty much taking care of 
each other.</p>
<p>The day that she got married was a strange day for me. She took my breath away, she was so beautiful. Yet, I felt a twinge of jealousy, too, 
because I knew that this meant that she'd be spending less time with me now. As little consolation as it was, I tried to take some comfort in 
knowing that she was happy, and that this is the way that things are supposed to be.</p>
<p>Heather was pregnant almost immediately. David, my brother-in-law, was completely ecstatic. Truth be told, even though I felt some jealousy 
about him having taken Heather away from me, he was a good man. He truly loved my sister, and he was never anything but good to her. When Amy 
was born, he was an amazingly good father. He loved that little girl more than life itself, and it seemed that everything was on a good track for 
the three of them.</p>
<p>Then I got the phone call. It was a state police officer, who was at my sister's house. He was calling to tell me that I needed to come, 
because my brother-in-law had been killed in a car accident, and my sister wasn't dealing with it well at all. I dropped everything, rushed out 
the door, and got to my sister's in record time.</p>
<p>I found Heather completely hysterical, and Amy clinging desperately to the state police officer, who was holding her gently in his arms. I 
think she was mostly frightened at what was going on with her mother. Quietly, I asked him to give me a moment, and he just nodded. I quickly 
made my way to the bathroom, and found the sleeping pills that I knew Heather had for her occasional bouts with insomnia. I read the dosage 
instructions, doubled what was written, and hurried back to her.</p>
<p>After I managed to get her to take the pills, and assured her that I would take care of Amy, I went and gently pried my niece from the 
police officer. She was terrified, mostly because she had never seen her mother like this before. She also recognized and knew that he was a 
police officer, and that she could trust him. Once I broke through her fear, she looked at me, and said in a quavering voice, "Uncle Steve?"</p>
<p>"Yes, Punkin," I answered, "I'm here, Baby. Come to me now, okay?"</p>
<p>She unwrapped herself from the state police officer, and wound her arms around my neck, her legs around my waist as I held her. I buried my 
face in her hair, and kissed the top of her head.</p>
<p>"It's okay, Baby. Uncle Steve's here now."</p>
<p>The state police officer quietly asked me if I was okay, or if I needed anything else. I looked up at him, and saw his eyes welled with tears. 
For some reason, that moved me beyond words.</p>
<p>"No, it's okay," I said. "I've got it now."</p>
<p>The next few days were a blur. I helped my sister with making all of the funeral arrangements, and did what I could to help out at home with 
Amy. I stayed with them for about a week - and moved a cot into the guest bedroom. Heather couldn't bring herself to sleep in the bed she'd 
shared with David yet. So, she slept in the guest room, and I slept on a cot next to her bed. The first night, Amy slept with her mother, but 
after that, she slid into bed with me every night, her back to me, curled into a tight, tiny little ball. I let her use one arm for a pillow, and 
wrapped my other arm around her, holding her close to me, letting her know that she was not alone, and that she never would be.</p>
<p>Slowly, things moved back to normal. Amy, though, had this constant sadness about her, and try as I might, I could never really seem to 
make it go away for very long. I spent as much time as I could with my sister and my niece, trying to help out. I took care of the yard, of the 
normal household maintenance projects that always come up. I tried to help Heather with money as often as I could, so that she could spend as 
much time with Amy as possible. Eventually, Amy began to light up again every time she saw me. For my part, I began to feel like a father. 
As far as I was concerned, the sun rose and set on this beautiful little girl.</p>
<p>One evening, just one of those, "Let's have Uncle Steve over for dinner" nights, things took a decidedly different turn for me. Amy was now 
ten years old, it had been five years since her father was killed. After we had eaten, sent Amy off to watch television, and Heather and I 
were cleaning the kitchen, my sister got strangely serious with me.</p>
<p>"Steve," she said, "if anything ever happened to me, I could count on you to take care of Amy, right?"</p>
<p>I stood and stared at her. "What the hell kind of question is that?"</p>
<p>"Just answer me, please," she said.</p>
<p>"Heather," I said, "don't you think it's kind of morbid to be talking like this?"</p>
<p>"No, Steve, I don't think it's morbid. I think it's something that I need to be able to know has been arranged, just in case." She was 
beginning to worry me with this discussion.</p>
<p>"But why do you even think you need to ask me something like that?" I asked.  "You know the answer."</p>
<p>"Damn it, Steve! I just need to hear you say it, okay? I need to know for sure that this is taken care of." She looked angry, and a more than 
just a little scared, which was scaring me.</p>
<p>"Alright, Jesus! I promise you, if anything should ever happen to you, I will take care of Amy. I will raise her as if she were my own 
daughter. You have my word on that, Heather. Is that what you needed to hear?" There was a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach now that had 
nothing to do with all of the food I'd just eaten.</p>
<p>Heather looked at me for a long, long moment, then sank into a chair at the table. She took a deep, shaking breath, and whispered, quietly, 
"I'm going to die, Steve."</p>
<p>Have you ever been kicked in the nuts? If you're a guy, and you have, then you'll know this feeling. Pretend that there's no pain in your 
balls, just that sick feeling that accompanies the pain. Your stomach feels like you just swallowed battery acid. That's what I felt.</p>
<p>When I could finally find my voice, I said to her, quietly, "What do you mean, you're going to die?"</p>
<p>Heather drew a deep, long breath, and then said, "I have pancreatic cancer. It's progressed too far to do anything about. It's going to kill 
me."</p>
<p>I was stunned. I moved behind her, and reached out, massaging her neck and her shoulders. She was my big sister, and  loved her more than 
words could begin to describe. The thought that she was going to die was unbearable.</p>
<p>My voice dropped to a near whisper. "How long?"</p>
<p>"They think maybe eight months, at the very most." Her voice had copied mine in dropping to that near whisper. It was almost as if we could 
make it go away if we didn't speak about it aloud.</p>
<p>We discussed her options - there were none, really. Finally, I wrapped my arms around her from behind, and leaned in close to her ear.</p>
<p>"I'll be here for you, Heather. And I'll always be here for Amy. I promise, I'll take care of her for you."</p>
<p>I rose, and headed for the living room. Amy was on the couch, watching television with a distant look in her eyes.</p>
<p>"Hey, Punkin," I said,  "don't you think it's time for you to get ready for bed?"</p>
<p>Amy didn't say a word. She stared at me with an odd look on her face for a moment, then just nodded at me, and headed up the stairs to get 
ready for bed. Fleetingly, I wondered if perhaps she had heard something, then dismissed the thought. When I could tell by the sounds coming from 
upstairs that she had moved to her bed, I went upstairs, tucked her in, and kissed her forehead.</p>
<p>"G'night, Punkin. Sweet dreams."</p>
<p>Going back downstairs, I asked my sister if she needed me for anything else that night. She told me no, then rose and hugged me tightly.</p>
<p>"Thank you, Steve," she said. "You don't know how much it means that you'll take care of Amy."</p>
<p>I hugged her back.</p>
<p>"Of course I will, Heather. You know that." I kissed her forehead gently, then turned and left.</p>
<p>And started the process of preparing to watch my sister die.</p>
<p>~ To Be Continued ~</p>